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Communiqué n°10
Samuel Gallet
Actes du théâtre n° 50.[ imprimer ]
Urban violence breaks out in a large city following the murder of young Lakdar. On the ninth floor of a building on the outskirts of town his older brother Hassan writes death threats to the Department of Justice, entrusts his mother to Marlène, a young photographer he met before the incidents, and goes off to set fire to a courthouse. Why must we always lose? Why must we resemble our fathers?

“Poelitical” theater.

“The power in Samuel Gallet’s plays lies in the constant tension between the poetic and the political. His work frames the world today as a struggle between resignation and a desire for emancipation, and expresses the dire need to reinvent ways to escape from it. Urban unrest (riots in the center or outskirts of major cities) has been weighing more and more on people’s minds given its increasing frequency in France in recent years. Such events crystalize the hardening of social relationships, the imminent feeling (amplified by the media) of an urban civil war. That line of reasoning has led all of us to suppose that the next outbreak of urban unrest will bring us ever closer to the breaking point, when each citizen will have to choose sides once and for all. In what way is the theater concerned with these troubling issues? Communiqué n°10 has shown how a generation is trying to extricate itself from the torpor of its social conditioning, from the failure of public policies created by their elders, from the disjunction between the city center and its outskirts which has exacerbated feelings of fear on one side and injustice on the other. In our view, faced with the real threat of a breakdown of the republican compact and abysmal doubts about fulfilling our collective future, the status of the spectator listening to a narrative in a theatrical assembly occupies a crucial place in re-founding the utopia of brotherhood: ‘only [literature] is determined to fulfill the conditions of the collective expression lacking everywhere else in this milieu: literature is the people’s affair.’ Pour une littérature mineure, G. Deleuze and F. Guattari.
Jean-Philippe Albizzati, Director’s Notes, November 2010

Production in progress by Comité 8.1
Directed by: Jean-Philippe Albizzati. Scenography, video, sound: Xavier Bonillo. Cast: Charles-Antoine Sanchez, Jérôme Fauvel, Claude Leprêtre, Maud Roulet, Jean-Rémy Chaize, Théo Costa-Marini.

Scheduled Events Staged reading for the Rencontres de Brangues (July 2011), Radio broadcast on France Culture (November 2011), French premiere of the play at the Théâtre de Privas (Fall 2012).

German translation to be published in Scène.

Characters : 2 women - 5 men -
Editions Espaces 34 - www.editions-espaces34.fr

DAMIEN I didn’t want to stay in that building Hassan. With my father shouting all day long and his wounded leg from the construction work. I told myself I’d never be like him and I left. I needed a job. I took whatever work I could find. I rented a room. The days pass and I’m silent. I do what I’m was told. I say nothing. I show nothing. When I’m out of money I don’t eat for three four five days to stay clean and beyond reproach. I choose showers and launderettes over food. I know how to control my body, hunger and thirst. I’ve learned exactly how to bury all my feelings and desires. I seem like a person who has no thoughts of his own. I have no thoughts of my own. I’m one of those people who doesn’t deserve to have opinions, who has not right to speak his mind, who never gets a second chance. Complaints and grievances from those who have everything seem normal to me. I feel no bitterness toward them. They’re innocent and I aspire to that kind of innocence. I learn the haughty gestures and smirks by heart and imitate them in the evening, alone in front of the mirror, as practice for the future. Sometimes Saturday is almost there and I can’t even go home. One or two years have gone by, I’m still standing motionless in front of the North entrance. South. East. West. Patrolling the mall. At night. My footsteps echoing against the walls of the superstore, the parking lot, the corridors, the fear, the noise of the city twenty-four hours a day. Just three more years I tell myself and I’m going abroad, just three more years, there’s no future here, I’m saving money and I hope everything stays on track, nothing changes and I can leave.